


Monsters

by scarlettbridges



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Off-Screen Major Character Death, not necessarily Sterek but it can be, off-screen because it's stated that they die/are dead but no details of how are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettbridges/pseuds/scarlettbridges
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't a duty. This is a choice. Your choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters

Derek keeps trying to protect Stiles from Dean and Sam, repeating that Stiles is  _human_ and _that they can't kill him because he's done nothing wrong._  But the inevitable outcome becomes clear, at least to him. So being the emotionally constipated sourwolf that he is, Derek "I'm the Alpha" Hale internalizes his struggle and desperately tries to accept death as a reasonable form of retribution for all the deaths that he's (directly/indirectly) caused- his family's, Scott's, Isaac's, Erica's, Boyd's, Jackson's, and even the remaining Argent's- and just lets it happen as long as they promise not to hurt Stiles. And all evidence of how broken, guilty, and lost he  _still_  is gets summed up in the fact that he uses his lasts breaths to try to get it through Stiles' thick fucking skull that  _he is a monster and he is receiving a monster's death._  Because maybe, if he says it with enough conviction, he can convince not only Stiles but himself and maybe he can greet The End a little easier.

And although Sam obviously has reservations about the deaths, Dean clenches his jaw and doesn't allow himself to think twice about killing all of those peop- _things_  because if he gives this night- hell, these past couple of weeks- a second thought, he'll have to give an entire lifetime of choices second thoughts and he just does not have the time or energy to do so. Instead, he just takes a deep breath, straightens his back, and climbs into the Impala and waits for Sam to join him so he can drive off.

And Stiles. Oh, Stiles. He doesn't even try to wipe the tears off his face because, although he still has his dad and Lydia and Mrs. McCall, he's lost everyone who's suffered through the past few years of supernatural hell with him. Sure, they hadn't always been close, and some of them still weren't in the end, but they were frien- _pack_  and they shared experiences with each other and cared about each other in ways that no one will be able to share with Stiles ever again.

He doesn't even start by screaming. He opens and clenches his fists repeatedly, still holding Derek in his lap, looking darkly at the Winchesters and breathing out shaky whispers that  _they weren't hurting anyone_ , shuddering, trying to shake his fury off in waves. He keeps saying that none of them deserved it. That even  _Derek_ , after all the shit he's done and gone through, didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve dying with the reaffirmation that he was nothing more than a monster, especially after all the hard work that Stiles did to convince Derek that he was still human.

And with each sentence, his voice starts to get louder and near hysteric as he screams at Dean and tells him that  _you may **think**  that you're doing something good, and that you've somehow made the world a little bit safer from the monsters lurking in the darkness, but you haven't. You've just created something worse,  **you are**  something worse, because you may convince yourself that everything you kill is an  **abomination**  and go to sleep with a clear conscience, but you're no better. This isn't a duty. This is a choice. Your choice._

_Yeah, maybe Derek couldn't control his life. He didn't have a choice between being a normal human and being a guy who had to wrestle an animal for control of his body every time he got a little worked up. But he fought every damn day to make sure that he didn't turn into something that killed senselessly. He fought to remind himself that he may not have been fully human, but he didn't have to be fully a monster._

_And you know what? I feel sorry for you Dean, I really do. Even though you're human, you battle with yourself the same way he did. Every time you kill something that goes bump in the night, you try to pretend like you're killing another little piece of the Dean that's just as unsympathetic, bloodthirsty, and broken as they are. You think that you're better than them, and have more claim to life than they do. But really, you're just trying to protect yourself and your family so maybe, just maybe, they could be safe and live normal lives. And that's where you and he are the same._ _Derek may have sprouted fangs frequently, but he was just trying to protect his pack, his **family.**  _

_And in the end, you took away every ounce of hope he had left. You couldn't even let him die thinking about how he was finally able to save at least **one**  of his pack. You couldn't let his final breaths be used to acknowledge that the last fucking thing he ever did was a good thing. No, you let him die convinced that he was an uncontrollable monster unworthy of living.  **And I hope you feel that way for the rest of your life.**_

Sam knows that his brother heard the whole thing. He can see Dean through the open windows, resolved to only stare ahead into the darkness and not at the boy on the ground, holding a dead werewolf in his arms. And Sam knows that Stiles may have directed the speech at Dean, but it rings all too true for him as well and he can't bear to listen to any more. So, he climbs into the passenger seat of the Impala, silent. There was no point in trying to console his brother and there was no time to try and weakly defend their lifestyle to a kid. That's that thing about Stiles. He was just a kid. Hell, all of them were kids. But in this life, there was no room for children. There was only room for survival, constantly followed by the shadows of sorrow and regret.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, sorry I'm not sorry if you hate the formatting because I'm not good at being good at things.


End file.
